


Reality So Subtle

by Irma66



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Veronica Mars Gift Exchange 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irma66/pseuds/Irma66
Summary: It's three days until his wedding when Logan has an unexpected blast from the past.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 18
Kudos: 68





	Reality So Subtle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [casket4mytears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casket4mytears/gifts).



> A bit of angst, fluff, and smut. All the LoVe favorites. A story for the 2019 holiday gift exchange.

Logan drops the package of macaroni and cheese boxes on the conveyor belt with a sneer. He would never understand Veronica’s penchant for plastic food. You didn’t have to be a rich snob to simply have taste. But she’d agreed to marry him, so maybe he shouldn’t be complaining about her taste. His sneer morphs into a grin at that thought. _Three more days._

“What’s it like, being on the cover of the tabloids all the time?”

His reverie on his upcoming nuptials is interrupted by the cashier, a skinny, skater boy-looking twerp.

“What?”

The twerp jerks a thumb at the magazines at the front of the checkout counter. Logan makes it a point to never even drop a glance that way as he passes them. He didn’t want anyone looking at him back when there was a reason to put an Echolls on a tabloid cover, and he felt an obligation not to look at anyone else. But now…he shoots a look back at the racks and shakes his head.

“What are you talking about?”

“It just seems cool, to get your picture on stuff all the time.”

Logan leans against the counter, glaring at the kid. “It’s not cool, and my picture hasn’t been on anything for a very long time.”

“Well, it is now. Congratulations, by the way.”

Logan jerks back and turns for the magazines again. _Shit, no._

Another look and he sees what he’d missed the first time, a picture of he and Veronica, arms around each other, both smiling. From what they were wearing, he knows it's from a book release party about a year ago. An old picture, before they were even officially engaged, but the headline reads: ECHOLLS ENGAGEMENT! and in smaller font below: Will This One Last?

That's when he notices the other picture, below the first, an actual wedding picture.

“Holy fuck.”

His mom and dad. In a picture he’s never seen before. Probably because Aaron wouldn’t have liked it, since it was only of his profile, mostly facing away from the photographer. His mom was truly the subject of the photo, looking as happy as he’d ever seen her, her newly-wedding-ringed hand clasping Aaron’s neck. Even with Aaron’s face barely visible, he looked happy too, smiling all the way to the crinkles around his eye. His eyes were the one place where Aaron didn’t have as much control as he thought he did; the eyes were always how Logan could tell when Aaron’s smile was only for the camera, and things wouldn’t be as pleasant in private. In this picture, though, Aaron actually looked as happy as Lynn did.

“So? When’s the wedding?” the twerp breaks in again, and Logan scowls and turns away from the magazine. The upcoming ceremony isn't public knowledge, and he’s not chatting with a clerk about it.

“That’s an old picture. I don’t know where they get this stuff. You can’t believe everything you read in tabloids, dude. Trust me.”

“Oh.” The clerk sounds disappointed, but he rallies. “So, you want to get a copy? See what they’re saying about you?”

“A world of no,” Logan answers. “I would not give those vultures my money ever. Ever.” He nudges the macaroni and cheese further down the conveyor. “Can you just ring me up, man? I got things to do.”

“Sure.”

He stands silently, the beep-beep-beep of his items being scanned barely registering past the roaring in his head. He stares at the picture of his mom, her mouth open and smiling, a laugh probably bubbling out of her from the expression on her face. She looks so happy. Like her life was just beginning and it was glorious.

“Hang on, I changed my mind.” He reaches for the tabloid and hands it to the kid, who looks surprised, but scans the item and starts to put it into a bag. “No, don’t do that.”

Logan reaches for the magazine and tears the front cover off, then hands the rest back. “Burn that. Please,” he says as he gently folds the page, taking care not to fold through either the picture with him and Veronica or the one with his mom and dad.

* * *

The ice cream sandwiches in his shopping bag mean that he can’t stop at the beach on the way home to brood over the photo, but he still can’t stop thinking about the couples being shown, both looking so happy together in the moment. Happy in the picture of his parents, though, didn’t mean that things were going to go right. Despite the joy radiating from his mom, he knows the marriage that was making her so happy right then was doomed, and would eventually be the end of her. _Are we going to be any different?_

He pulls the car into the garage and pops the trunk, gathering all the bags and closing the lid with his elbow.

“It’s about time you got back,” Veronica scolds as he enters the kitchen. “I sent you for sour cream. Why so many bags?”

“We needed stuff,” Logan answers simply. “I even got you some of the bright orange mac and cheese you love so much.”

“Aww, thanks, hon.” Veronica shakes her head and stretches to kiss his cheek. “I know you hate that particular comfort food.” She turns back to digging in the grocery bags, humming as she does so.

“Not sure how processed, neon-colored muck is a comfort food, but no one said marriage is about agreements, right?”

He sees her head swivel toward him,and he turns away before she gets inquisitive. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Shopping’s a dirty, sweaty business, is it?” she asks, and he can hear the tone in her voice. The 'come here so I can crack you open and peer inside' tone. He ignores it.

“Yep, that’s right.”

“Hey, give me a sec and I’ll scrub your back.”

“I can reach my own back.”

As he walks out of the room, he sees her staring after him, head tilted as she tries to figure him out. _Damn ice cream sandwiches,_ he thinks as he makes his escape from the insanely curious woman he's about to marry.

* * *

Unfortunately, the shower is not helpful.

It does give him a little space from Veronica, but none of his thoughts change his mood. He can’t think past the photo of his doomed mother, happy in the moment as she entered into a marriage that would kill her in the end. Aaron didn’t kill her with his own hands, like he had Lilly, and nearly Veronica, but he might as well have. It would have been quicker and probably less painful in the long run.

Logan finally shuts the water off and steps out of the shower into a bathroom full of steam, the mirror completely fogged over. As he moves in front of it, he can't actually see himself, only a dark shape moving around. With Aaron already in his head, Logan remembers a father who seemed to love to skulk in the shadows of the house, lying in wait for him to come home and answer for whatever wrong he'd committed against the precious image of Aaron Echolls. What were the odds that he would one day be that predator in the darkness, terrorizing a family who loved him, but shouldn't?

Logan banishes that thought with a vicious shake of his head. He fears becoming Aaron, like he used to fear becoming his mother, but down deep, he knows that he won't. If that part of him, his Aaron genes, ever escape from wherever they're hiding inside him, he knows he would throw himself off a cliff before he lets them take him over. 

He leans over the sink and swipes his hand across the mirror. Only his own reflection looks back. He shakes his head at himself. _Stupid. Veronica's gonna be pissed about the mirror._ He sighs and wraps his towel around his waist, then steps into their bedroom.

"I was beginning to think you'd melted in the shower."

The room is dim, but he can make out her form sitting in the glider in the corner of the room.

"No such luck," he answers with a smile he knows is weak. "You're stuck with me."

"Yes, I am." She stands and moves closer to him. Before he even realizes he's doing it, he takes an involuntary step back, then silently curses himself when her eyebrows scrunch together. Veronica frowns, stopping short in the middle of the room, and asks, "You want that, right, to be stuck with me?"

His mouth drops open in surprise, and he nods rapidly, moving forward again to catch her hands in his. "Oh yes, hell yes. Why would you even say that?"

"You're being weird, Logan, and you came in with this..." She pulls a hand free to pull the folded magazine cover from her pocket, holding it out to him. "What's going on?"

He takes the page from her. "You looked at it, I presume."

She rolls her eyes. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Where was it?"

"In one of the bags of groceries. Most people bring home whole magazines, not just single pages, but you've never really been the tabloid type." She runs her fingers over the page. "I always liked this picture of us."

"I like it better when it's not on the front page of a tabloid."

She releases his other hand as she shuffles a step closer, then cups his cheek. "Mmm, yeah, but it could be worse."

He draws his head back, away from her caressing hand. "How?"

She sighs and shakes her head. "Any number of ways. If you stop reacting to whatever’s messing with you, and think rationally for about three seconds, you'll be able to think of ways this could be worse." She grabs his hand again and tugs him over to the glider. "Echolls' Engagement ends in—" She glances over her shoulder at him with a grin. "—disaster...murder...alien possession. Take your pick. Or maybe, Echolls' fiancee revealed to be...Soviet spy...Bigfoot—“

"—Paris Hilton."

"Yes, now you get how this works." She pushes him into the chair and sits in his lap.

"Can I at least put some clothes on before this lecture begins?" he asks, squirming a little as she snuggles into him.

"No need. Mine will be off soon too." She nips at the base of his neck. "Just got to get through this _conversation_ , not lecture, first. So, it's not just us on this very special magazine cover. I've never seen that photo of your mom and dad. She looks so beautiful. And happy. Even he looks happy." She holds the page out so they can both see it, studying the photo for a moment before smiling sadly at him. "’In photography, there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality.’"

He blinks at her, caught off guard. "What?" She smirks at him.

"Not used to someone quoting at you, hmm? Alfred Stieglitz. In case you were wondering."

"Reality was never all that subtle at the Echolls' house," he says wryly.

"The photos of all of you that the world saw in magazines and on TV were more real to most people than any of you were yourselves. That's probably true for anyone even a little famous. But this picture...your mom and dad...I think they were happy here. The emotion you're seeing was real, but then life changed. They still had to keep showing this kind of thing though—" she shakes the page "—because the image was what needed to be real."

"Protect the image was the Echolls' family motto. Pretty sure we had it embroidered on a few pillows. Lucky Weevil burned those up, huh?"

"Stop it."

"I just wonder." He presses the hand in which Veronica is holding the magazine cover down so he can see the images. "They really do look happy here. If it's real..."

She rests her head on his shoulder. "If I had to guess, I'd say that's what's got you tied up in knots now. If they were that happy, what happened, and how do you know it won't happen to us?"

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. "How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Put what I'm feeling into words without even thinking hard. It's a little creepy.”

She places the folded sheet on the table beside them, then focuses her attention on him, eyebrows raised. “So, I’m creepy, hmm?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, I do. But that’s because I’m creepy and can read you like a book.” She tucks her head in the crook of his neck, spreading her hand against his chest, over his heart. “You’re not Aaron; you’ll never be Aaron. Abuse can be passed between generations, yes, but that’s not an absolute. There is nothing in you to be anything but loving to the people who matter in your life. That's our reality.”

“But I’ve—“

“Yes, you’ve resorted to violence in your life, but never against the people you love and mostly in defense of them. And absolutely yes, you can be a jackass, but that’s mostly been defensive of yourself, and you don’t do it to be cruel.”

“But I—“

“Yes, you were cruel to me when we were fifteen and sixteen, but there were very extenuating circumstances at that time, and you’ve done nothing but try to make up for them since.”

“Okay, I take it back.”

She lifts her head, eyebrows raised again in question.

“You are creepy. No one should know anyone else like you seem to know me.” 

She laughs softly and tucks her head against him again. “Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

“But Veronica, you have to promise—“

“Oh geez, Logan, stop—“

“No, just let me say this. You have to promise that if I ever start to become like him—“

“You won’t, so there’s no problem promising you. If you ever start to act like Aaron, I promise that I won’t just stand around letting you behave like a sociopath.”

"You get away. Especially if we have kids. You just take them and leave."

She flattens her hand against his chest, giving him two firm pats. "You need to stop dwelling on this. We're getting married at the end of the week, and I am not interested in watching you wallow around instead of looking forward to a wedding on the beach." She pats him again. "I think what this picture shows is your mom and dad being happy and in love once upon a time. But later on, things changed for them, and the relationship changed too. I'm certainly not going to claim that nothing can ever change between us, but I do feel pretty confident that our lives are not going to take the violent swing that theirs did when Aaron's star skyrocketed. Maybe he would have become the same person even if he stayed a mildly successful indie darling, but I wouldn't bet on that. And more than that, I think it was the inequality that arose between them when he got so popular, so quickly, that pushed him to where he ended up." 

Logan rests his cheek on the top of her head. "That makes sense, I guess. I just worry—"

She straightens and catches his jaw in her hand, pulling him into a kiss. He lets her take the lead, feeling her pour her love and affection for him into the kiss. He's ready to pick her up and carry her to their bed when she pulls away. She's smiling, but her eyes are serious.

"I don't," she says.

"You don't what?" he asks, feeling a little dumb, but he can't keep up with wherever her brain is going. _It's not like that's a new thing._

"I don't worry. I know you, Logan Echolls. Pretty sure I know you better than you know yourself since you're always ready to think the worst and I know better than that."

He sighs and pulls her close. "What if you're wrong?"

She scoffs and shakes her head, flicking the muscle over his collar bone hard. He flinches, and she pats the spot soothingly. "Are you really asking what if I'm wrong? Really? You have like three days to internalize that I'm never wrong. It is in our vows. I told Wallace specifically that he was to include that."

"And he said no. I heard him." The teasing relieves some of the weight against his heart, but he's still afraid that she's being stubborn and that she won't take the danger seriously. "Look, Veronica, I love that you believe in me. That means more than you can even imagine. But it's even more important to me that you're safe. And that any kids we have are safe. Even if what you all need to be safe from...is me."

His voice betrays him at the end, cracking as he admits his greatest fear, and he has to stop before he breaks down. He pins his eyes to the darkened windows, not wanting to meet her gaze. Consciously, he knows he would die before he would hurt Veronica, but he's been in fights where he's pretty sure he wasn't really in control of himself. Attacking Piz back at Hearst. That was a prime example of no conscious thought. He'd driven to school and walked all the way across campus to commit that violence, never once considering that maybe it wasn't the best idea. What if something like that were to happen? Aaron threw him into a wall once when Logan spilled juice on a script. What if a child of theirs did something similar—deleted a manuscript maybe. Would that trigger his rage?

He's pulled back to the present when Veronica pushes herself out of his lap and stands in front of him. She smooths her hand over his hair, then drops a kiss onto the crown of his head. "Logan, do you really think I'm going to suddenly lose all of my sense when we get married? I'm certain that you're not a danger, but I'm not going to become blind and stupid either. You've already admitted that I can read you like a book. If your fundamental personality were to suddenly change, pretty sure I would notice. And I'd make damn sure I'd do something about it before I let you get to a point where you did something that I know would be the end of you."

He nods, his throat still too tight to speak. What she was saying made sense. She wasn't exactly the passive type like his mother had been. 

"Logan?" She tugs gently on his hair when he doesn't look up. "Logan. Look at me."

He drops his gaze into his lap for a moment, for some reason not wanting to cooperate, show her that he can't always be made to do what she wants, but he can't actually resist her, and he relents, glancing into her face. Her eyes are soft now as she smiles at him.

"I won't lose you, Logan. Not even to yourself. That's what's real. Do you understand me?"

He nods. He does understand. They've talked before about their mothers, losing themselves to their own worst urges. That's what Aaron did too, although he mostly turned his behavior outward, rather than toward himself, like Lianne and Lynn both had with their self-destructive drinking. 

"Don't be your own worst enemy," he intones, like a mantra. 

"Exactly," she says, kissing his head again. "And as much as I enjoy the emo pretty boy look, I prefer when you're not wallowing."

He huffs, both grateful and irritated that she's so good at talking him off the ledges on which he sometimes finds himself. "Emo pretty boy?"

"Yeah...the big soft chocolate eyes...the wobbly lower lip. Sexy and tender at the same time. Why do you think you always got so much action every time we broke up back in the day? No woman can resist that look."

He groans and drops his face into his hands. Somehow she's managed to break through his crippling self-doubt by replacing it with crippling embarrassment. "I always thought it was because I was hot and easy."

"You're not wrong." She climbs into his lap, forcing him upright as she straddles him this time. "But the emotional rawness...baby, you don't just wear your heart on your sleeve. You wave it over your head like a flag."

"Uggghhhh." He throws his head back as he covers his face again. "No, we are not talking about this."

"Are you sure?" She leans into him and kisses up his neck, and his heart lightens with every touch of her lips. "I'm fairly fond of the sexy, tender look."

"I always thought it was the hot and easy thing."

She laughs against his skin. "I'm not opposed."

Logan lifts his head and snuggles his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. They'll be fine. As long as they're together, they'll be more than fine. 

"You told me I couldn't get dressed because you were getting naked." He snakes his hands under her and stands; she wraps her legs around his hips as he moves them to the bed. "Now is the time."

"I'm not opposed to that either." He releases her at the edge of the bed, expecting her to fall back onto it, but she continues to cling to him, kissing his neck and his face before her legs drop, and she stands on the bed before him. She's taller than him for a change, and he gazes up at her smiling face for a moment, entranced. She slides a hand to his cheek, stroking with her thumb, and he relaxes into her embrace.

"I'm not sure what I did to deserve you in my life. You're always ready to fight for me, even when I'm the one you have to fight." 

Her smile widens at his words. "You just got lucky, I guess." She stoops and kisses his nose. "So, do you want these clothes off, or not?" She takes a step back and holds her arms out, twisting a little like she's putting herself on display. "You've only got two more days to have unmarried sex, Logan. Everyone says it's boring after that...so we should probably get our fill while we can."

He rolls his eyes and pulls her back toward him, then skins her shirt over her head and tosses it away. "Boring sex? That's what you think? We've only got two days until the sex becomes boring?" He traces a finger lightly along the lacy edge of a bra strap, down to the clasp between her breasts, where he pauses as he presses his lips together and forces a frown. "No wonder you haven't wanted to get married for so long."

"I'm just repeating what I've heard." She arches her back enough that his finger slips off the bra clasp, and he strokes the smooth skin between her breasts. "I mean, that doesn't have to be our reality." She smirks down at him. "If we're determined enough, maybe we can keep things interesting." She reaches for the clasp and flips it open, pulling the bra off and flinging it away. He responds by sliding his hands over her skin, cupping both breasts. 

"You think?" he asks. He continues to move his hands up, enjoying her quick intake of breath as his palms slip roughly over her nipples. "So, a week from now, you think this will just be boring?" His hands skim up to her shoulders, then down her arms, before coming to rest at her waist, where he flicks at the button of her jeans with his thumb. "That's really too bad." 

"Maybe it'll take more than a week."

"Let's hope so." Another tug and her pants are undone and he pulls both her jeans and panties down her legs. She rests her hand on his head to steady herself as she steps out, first one foot, then the other, and he sends the last of her clothing in the same direction as everything else. He rises slowly, dropping kisses on both her knees, the apex of her sex, her belly button, both breasts, the hollow at the base of her neck. 

She shivers under his touch, her hands still on his head, clutching at his hair when some of the kisses are more intimate than others. When she starts to sway, he lifts her off her feet and drops her gently on her back on the mattress, then follows her down. He curls around her on his side, one arm stretched around her head with his hand twining in her hair, while his other hand trails down the line he'd just kissed before stopping to stroke between her legs. His lips press against her temple as his fingers slip through her wet folds and his thumb strums over her clit. He squirms closer to her, pressing his cock against her thigh, and she shifts her leg to rest between his, applying a gentle pressure that he grinds into.

"Oh, Logan," she sighs, and he smiles at the contentment in her tone.

"Pretty sure we've got more than a week that you'll still enjoy this," he teases as she arches against his hand. "And I don't see myself ever getting tired of it. That's what our reality is going to be."

"I think you may be right about that," she says, breathless, and he can feel her muscles tightening around his fingers. He crooks his finger against the rough spot inside her, and she sucks in a gasp of air, then gives a loud keening cry and stiffens under his hand, her hips jerking up toward him. He continues to coax her through her orgasm until she slumps back with a satisfied hum. 

"See, you made fun of a private island in the wilds of Canada, but I'm thinking it's a good thing." He begins to stroke his thumb over her clit again. "No one to hear you scream my name, and no need for clothes the whole time we're there, both inside and outside." She laughs, rocking into his hand again, then she shoves it away and pushes herself up, and him flat on his back, before straddling him and sinking quickly onto his cock. He shouts her name in surprise and pleasure as she sets a hard, fast pace. 

"We need privacy because I'm loud?" she taunts, but he can only groan in response, too turned on by the sight of her riding him to quip back. "I think your name won't be the only one being screamed." She cups her breasts with her hands and catches her nipples between her fingers. 

"Oh God, Veronica," he calls out, and she tips forward enough to brace a hand on his chest and twist one of his nipples between her thumb and forefinger. 

"Told'ja," she gasps, then shrieks as he slips his hand between them and pinches her clit. They continue their pleasurable torture of themselves and each other, both growing louder and louder, until Veronica starts to climax again and he takes advantage of her distraction to flip her onto her back and begin driving into her. 

As they lie tangled together after, still kissing and stroking, Logan starts to laugh. 

"Gotta say, that felt a little like a sex war," he says.

"Maybe, but I'm pretty sure we both won," Veronica replies, laughing along with him.

"Every day, for as long as we both shall live." Even if she laughs at his corniness, he can't help himself. "That's reality."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to EllieBear and MKT for the encouragement and to KMD0107 for her beta help. 
> 
> Another thank you to Ellie for the idea for a Canadian extra for Casket—the Canadian island cottage belonging to Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin. There's only the tiniest reference to it but in this AU, Logan got it from Aaron's estate, but has only visited it occasionally, but it's about to become the new Mr & Mrs Echolls' favorite spot for summer vacations. Maybe their kids will grow up with Cindy Crawford's like the Hamlin girls.


End file.
